AN: There is a scene in here with two guys in a tub. NO. They are not gay. For those unaware, in
Japan, men bathe together. They clean
themselves before they go into the bath, and use the bath for soaking. This is
a traditional custom. So, all you yaoi fans (myself included) don't go barking
up the wrong tree.

Also…unless I get really, REALLY inspired, chapter 18 will
be the last chapter. I do end it rather
suddenly, but I figured at least end it, you know? I did not want to leave
everyone hanging. If I ever feel like it I will write an alternate ending. This chapter is basically just tying up the
loose ends, although Naraku is strangely absent…and… the romance which does
happen is…well, its disappointing, that's what it is…I know, I know! I will get
flamed to death! But, if I have to write any IY story, I will continue work on
Shadows…but at the moment I have gravitated away from it…

Notes: mochi is like pounded rice that forms a really
strange texture…you eat it around new years in Japan.

AN: okay, I was gunna double/triple check this again…but…its
12:20 on Christmas day. Sorry, but sleep is calling moi. Hope I did not over
look too much. Gomen gomen!

Forgotten Wish

Chapter 18

Gingerly he passed her a piece of paper from across the
table. In the eerie silence of midday,
the thick texture scratched only slightly against the broad oak table. The bumps, crests and ridges of this paper
were revealed now, its scent old and mysterious, full of memories from sunny
days in the country, full of dark searing nights in mid summer. Sesshoumaru's golden eyes drank greedily at
Kagome's small form in the chair, before swiftly walking towards the window.

Glancing
up at him in apprehension, she found her voice rather soft, subdue, "What is
this for?"

He
had moved his head ever so slightly and was now gazing out and towards the sky.
Large puffy clouds drifted lazily over the scene of shimmering white, causing
illusions of shadows to every now and then cast the building into a gray chilly
darkness.

His
tawny eyes were misted over in mystery and apprehension; he said in a cool,
reserved way, as though he had not even heard her last remark, "What time are
you leaving for Kobe?"

Startled,
but not showing, Kagome questioned, "How did you know?" She found her self-consciously studying his
profile, which had once again turned to the snow outside the window. It was
untouched by people, its beauty unmarred.
It sparkled. It was created of
every color that was possible, and its beauty was almost blinding. He was truly stunning. Attractive and
elegant and noble in a way that was non-existent in the world; there was no
longer such a beauty. He was the last
of his kind.

His
voice was vague, shrouded in darkness, "I heard you mention it to Ito…"

Kagome,
turning her own eyes to the snow scene whispered, "I see…"

The
two were quiet for a moment, a moment that felt like eternity. It was calm,
strangely so, despite the forces at work.
They could feel the electricity, though each would deny the storm was
about to break. Each was content to look the other way. If they contemplated each other the truth would
be known—and this emotion was not yet ready.

"Kagome…"
Sesshomaru breathed in his distinctive way, "Don't leave until tonight at the
earliest. On the paper is an address…" He paused, now facing her seated
form. There was intensity in his eyes. A yearning, a demanding, an unquenchable
anger and hatred, "Go there."

"What
is there?" She did not need to ask; she
already knew the answer.

Sun
broke through, and a chessboard of light and shadows danced gaily across the
floor of the empty nurses quarter. Through
this hazy radiance, the two gazed at each other in mutual admiration for some
time, until finally, the real world caught them and they could no longer escape
from the distorted reality.

Slipping
the thick piece of paper into her pocket, she said a few goodbyes's to the
nurses, and headed to her apartment where she began to gather her clothes for
the journey she would now take. Yet,
the address was imprinted on her mind, and every time she closed her eyes, she
would see his impassive face gazing at her. An expression that she would learn
the meaning of…

````````

Brewing
himself a cup of tea, Sesshoumaru placed the porcelain pot onto his polished
mahogany table. Against his wishes,
against everything he had taught himself all his life: he was nervous. This
feeling would not leave that quickly.
He felt somewhat sick and pent up, as if he had never stretched a day in
his life. As if he had never hunted, never lusted in battles, never enjoyed the
look of agony impressed against peoples faces.
The life he had known disappeared. He was innocent. He was freshly laid
snow.

The
light knock against his door caused him to instinctively look up from the
table. Something began to flow through
his body, a great throbbing sensation. It
was soft in itself. Gentle, like far off lights reflecting against the
ocean. Setting down his teacup, he
strode towards the front door. The
portal in which she had entered. The
portal in which she would now enter.
And into this other world she would stay.

She
had to stay.

Unlocking
the entry, he released the door, and peered into the hallway lit with sunlight
streaming in throughout skylights.

"Hello."
Said the person, the voice soft, coaxing, and utterly beautiful.

"Hello."
He replied, restrained, collected, calm, and cool.

"Won't
you come in?" He offered kindly
stepping aside and letting the slim well proportioned figure make her way in
the entrance.

"Thank
you. Yet, only for a moment, I must be off…" the voice paused, her lips
slightly parted, as though a distressful feeling was washing over her.

"I
know. I expected as much." He replied,
leaning against the wall, eyeing her lazily.

"You
are always aware, aren't you? That is
what I first noticed all those years ago…" The breathy voice once again
paused. Her deep dark eyes gazed
hesitantly at Sesshoumaru's form, "But…that was years ago. I have lost you, haven't I?"

"Yes.
You have." His eyes narrowed slightly
and he felt a draft from the open window in the kitchen.

"It
was foolish of me to try to believe."
The figure now held her leather purse in her hands, "I am sorry—"

"You
don't have to tell me this. You are forgiven.
I knew one day you would see."
Sesshoumaru lowered his gaze, his voice soft.

"Let
me continue. Please. I have caused you
so much pain…"

"If
anything you only made these past years more exciting. Exciting in a not enjoyable way."

There
was a soft, gentle laugh. A laugh of
regrets.

And
then, there was silence. A great thick silence in which the tears rolled down
her flawless face and fell onto the worn wooden floors.

"But,
I have seen, like a good girl, that I do not deserve you. And, that is better anyhow, don't you
agree?"

Her
tears had stopped. He made no reply.

"How
foolish I have been. How very
foolish. It is for this reason I have
decide to leave the hospital, and transfer to one in Okinawa."

"That
is not necessary."

"Yes,
it is. Do not lie to me Sesshoumaru. I
have known you too long, too well."

Once
again, he made no reply.

"I
trust that things will work themselves out."

"I
am finding that faith and hope is a very good thing, for the first time in my
life." He smirked slightly, once again
looking at her. She was truly
beautiful. Women would slaughter for
her looks, her grace, her charm…but he had known a darker side, a side which
she had only shown to him. It was their
secret.

This was a wise move indeed. In Okinawa, she could start a family with a loving
man. The housewife was where she was
best suited. She would run the temple,
teach archery…make mochi on new years…this was truly the life that this
timeless beauty desired…

"I
believe I agree." She laughed.

She moved
forward, her hands outstretched. She
would not embrace him, but instead, like a blind person, she reached out and
grasped his hand while gently placing something cold and hard into it. Moving away he studied the figurine, he had
been presented with. Simple and plain
there was a charm that rendered it dear to his heart.

"Give
it to her. Whoever she may be."

Nodding
he walked into the entry way as she stepped out into the hall. Bowing she said once again, "I'm sorry."

Kagome
made no response, and yet avoided his eyes.
There was a crash as Inu Yasha hurled an object across the room. The pieces sparkled in the afternoon sun and
then fell to the floor in a shattering silence.

"How
could you…?"

The
expression in his eyes was beyond reason, beyond logic. It was pure emotion, torment, anger, and
frustration. It was jealousy.

"Inu
Yasha…"

"How
could you?" he yelled angrily, once again throwing something at the wall.

There
was silence and Inu Yasha breathed deeply.

Golden
color that of his eyes, poured in through the open windows of his
apartment. And he stood there, his body
taught, vibrating with emotion, his eyes bleary and unseeingly looking at
Kagome.

"Inu
Yasha," she began again, "Try to understand, won't you?"

"Understand
what? The fact that your in love with my fucking brother?"

His
form was utterly still now. A panther waiting to attack.

"I
did not say I was in love." Kagome said angrily, her annoyance rising.

"That's
bullshit, and both you and I know it.
Everyone knows you two are an item.
People wonder everyday when you are going to get together." He spat angrily at the floor, his eyes never
leaving Kagome's figure. He studied her
through those glazed eyes. Glazed with
a passion she would never feel for him.

Never.

It
had died.

"If
everyone knew it, why didn't you just accept the fact? This supposed fact?" Kagome shouted bitterly, crossing her arms,
"If people have known about it, why are you reacting like a child?"

He
exploded.

"Why?
Why? Like a child? Kagome, for years I have loved you! I have hoped that
somehow you would see me. No. It was
always him. It has always been him! It
will forever be him! The brother who turned my life into a living hell? The brother who treated you like crap for
years!"

"Inu
Yasha…!" Kagome tried to interrupt.

"And
you choose him? For the rest of my life
I will be tortured with the fact that you chose him over me? He who has had it so easy! He, who is not half as much as an outcast
from society as I am!"

"Just
be quiet. It's not his fault that your
father died. Its not his fault that
your father didn't claim you as his own.
Life does not work out that way.
Bad things have happened to me too, Inu Yasha. I got over them." Kagome screamed at the top of her lungs.
"And you need to get over this issue with him.
One day when you really need him you will realize what an ass you were."

Inu
Yasha stepped swiftly forward, pressing his mouth firmly against her own. Digging deeply, hoping, searching,
probing…trying to find a love which he had thought they had possessed. This figure he had wanted to hold in his
arms and kiss fervently as he was doing so now—was cold. She did not respond.
Kagome did not move a muscle.

Pulling
away, breathing heavily, he questioned, "Tell me, you did not feel anything."

She
gazed at him, a look full of utter abandonment and disappointment on her
features.

"Whether
I love Sesshoumaru or not, I have made my decision. Excuse me."

Brushing
past Inu Yasha she left him in the room, with golden sunlight streaming against
his silver hair.

A
few second later he stumbled against the wall, trying to hide from the light of
day his tears.

``````

A
cool breeze felt rather wonderful against his hot and damp body. Sitting in a tub at 102 degrees was really
quite wonderful. Sprawling in an oversized wooden Japanese bathtub in 102
degrees water while writing the final chapter to his romantic masterpiece was
heavenly.

The
words dripped off his fingers like water off his body, and he enjoyed every minute
of it—except for the fact that Kouga was sharing the tub with him.

He
hated having to share tubs. Especially
with men. Women, particularly Sango, well, that was another story.

Taking
a sip of Cola, he glanced at Kouga who was reading some anime magazine with a
special on 70's robotic anime series.
It disturbed him how much like those freaky anime otaku Kouga was. He could almost picture him at a convention. The thought of spandex disturbed him.

Snorting
with laughter, he turned back to the typewriter, trying not to jostle the
water.

"What
ARE you laughing at?" Kouga snapped, turning the page.

"Oh,
nothing, nothing," Miroku smirked, as he began to construct the next scene…

Slowly he lowered his gaze until it fell upon her bare
body. A demon gleam came to his eyes, a gleam that one would expect a great
samurai to have as blood dripped from his sword under the full moon. Unbuttoning his silken shirt, he smiled
gently, his eyes gazing deeply into the large sapphire orbs that lay beneath
him, "Do you know how long I have desired you…?"

A
shuddering sigh came from Yuki, which was sprawled beneath his form, slightly
shivering from the cool winds that ruffled her dark hair.

Bowing
his head, he gently nibbled on her earlobe as gasps and sighs of ecstasy escaped
from her swollen mouth—

"Do
you mind?" Miroku glowered at Kouga who was leaning over the tub, reading the
last paragraph.

"Do
you know you're writing soft porn?" Kouga mumbled interestingly as he flipped
through a few pages past in which the breasts of Yuki were described for about
two paragraphs, the rest of her body for another five, Minoru (who played the
misunderstood aloof man) had 10 paragraphs describing his body. Three were
devoted to the kiss. Four were devoted to the places they explored in the
mouths, and how Minoru and Yuki were stripped of each other's clothes. Now Miroku was getting to the good part.

"You
call it soft porn. I call it the next Pride and Prejudice, thank you very
much." Miroku grumbled irritably, "I do
have a deadline to make, you know."

Deciding
he would be allowed no more work in the tub, Miroku questioned, "What?"

"Kagome…"

"What
about her?"

"I
told her. How I felt."

Miroku
nodded. He knew this of course.

"Did
you? What did she do?"

"Well…"

He
would not press. After all, the boy was dying to tell someone. Anyone.
Obviously, he was the last resort.

A
few more moments' silence.

"She
sort of…well, she ran off."

"I
see. How exactly did you 'explain?'"

"I
kissed her! What else is there TO do?"

"What
else, indeed."

"But
lately…"

"Yes?"

"Well…she
is distant. She is always around—"

"Around
who, Kouga?"

"Around
this asshole."

"Oh.
I see."

"I
hate him."

"Why?"

"Because
she hangs around him! She sticks up for him!"

"Well,
this may be completely wrong, ludicrous, and insane… but maybe she cares for
him."

"Who
could care for an icicle like him?"

"Her.
Just a guess here though."

"I
bet he is paying her."

"Do
you really think Kagome would do that?"

"Well…"

"Would
you care for her so much if she would do something like that?"

Kouga
was now going deeper into the water, his face just resting above the
surface. Miroku lit his pipe, which he
only smoked to give him something to do in awkward moments. Kouga would need time to adjust to the fact
that Kagome was not interested in him, physically, emotionally, or sexually.

"I
didn't know you smoked," noted Kouga watching his ritual.

"I
picked it up in college." Miroku lied, lighting a match, and then letting it
fall into the water.

"Too
many. That is what. If she has not made any sign that she is interested: move
on. That is the best advice I can give you. Move on."

There
was a long silence, and only the smell of tobacco and the murmuring of water
were heard.

Right
before Kouga sunk beneath the water, a look of utter loss and despair swept
across his features.

And
Miroku, closing his eyes, thought bitter-sweetly, It is over.

``````

Hojo
leaned casually against the brick wall that surrounded the school. The sun was golden in the Christmas Eve
afternoon. From across the schoolyard,
a bell rang and there was a muted cheer from the recesses of the building. The sounds of footsteps crunching across the
snow, the shouts of voices, the laughs of girls, the greetings, and the
farewells all blended. Walking towards
the gate, Hojo grinned, glancing through the crowd of junior highschoolers.
Girls in their uniforms, shivering, the boys laughing, throwing
snowballs—holiday merriment, Hojo thought.

In
the distance, Hojo saw a familiar figure bound out of the building, waving
goodbye to someone in the halls. He saw
the deep honey colored eyes turn to him.
He saw the smile that lit his face.
He heard the voice shout over the crowd.

"Hojo..!"

Grinning
he made his way forward to the figure and shouted, "Come on, Shippou, lets go
back to Asakasa! I've already asked permission."

Hojo
smiled gently, sadly, but a smile nevertheless, and replied, "Yes, but not
today. She promised me after Christmas.
Here is her proof."

Taking
out of his pocket a large Christmas card, smelling of cinnamon sticks, he
handed it to Shippou. He opened it,
carefully, and reading the contents, he glanced up at Hojo, flashed a grin,
then replied, "Lets go then."

Hojo
returned the expression and began to chat with him about this man he had a
conversation with on the subway today. Supposedly, the man is a master of
karate, and offered to give him, or his family member lessons. It seems like an excellent opportunity.
Shippou agreed.

````

Slowly
Kagome raised her hand to the door, and moving it, sound was heard, and a
slight ache was felt on her knuckles.
Lowering her hand, and adjusting the satchel on her shoulder, she gazed
down at the piece of heavy paper that Sesshoumaru had given her earlier that
day. The address was printed clearly in his flowing script, and glancing at the
apartment number, she found herself wondering if she was in the wrong building.
Perhaps even the wrong street.

Adjusting
her satchel again, she began to turn to depart, but the sound of the lock
echoed through the silence of the hall, and glancing over her shoulder she
found that the keeper of the apartment had opened the door.

A
few scattered thoughts flashed through her head as she tried to digest the
expression he wore. It was emotionless as usual, and yet, at the same time
there was a depth in his eyes. The
abysses were full of happiness, sorrow, and amusement.

A
sculpted eyebrow rose, and he smirked, "I did not know if you would come."

Leaning
against the door he watched as she turned around, enjoying the fact that he was
responsible for the color that came to her pale cheeks. Sesshoumaru was a
vision of darkness.

"I
didn't know if I would come either." Kagome admitted, once again adjusting her
leather-traveling bag.

"How
much longer do you have?" Sesshoumaru
inquired, not moving an inch, but instead greedily drinking her.

"Until
the train?" Kagome questioned, her
voice just above a whisper.

"Yes.
Until the train."

He
moved his hips and beckoned her into his apartment with the swift move with his
hands. Moving into the darkness of the
hall, he watched her enter, and slip off her shoes, while still fingering the
leather strap to her bag delicately.

"One
leaves on the hour, every hour." Kagome
admitted, finding her becoming even more hot and flustered as she entered
Sesshoumaru's apartment. She could
sense his presence everywhere. The
smell was that of traditional incense mixed with fragrant wood. The decorations
and furniture were beautiful robust pieces. There was nothing false, or even
ostentatious. Everything was as it was
meant to be in nature. Everything was spectacular
and subdue.

Sesshoumaru
made no response.

"Sesshoumaru…is
there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Kagome questioned nervously, trying to avoid his gaze by studying
the artwork of the entryway halls.

"Yes,
there is, Kagome. Would you like a cup
of tea?"

There
was something almost gentle in his voice.
Yet, at the same time extremely attractive, as though he was offering
himself to her. As though he was now
hers.

"No
thank you." Kagome retorted,
"Actually," she bitterly dropped the bag on the wooden floor with a clank, "I
do need to go, so whatever you summoned me here for, I would like to know…"

Chuckling,
Sesshoumaru placed the teapot on the kettle without lighting the stove.

"You
have not changed, have you?"

Grimacing
she grumbled irritably, "No. But you have."

Sesshoumaru
smirked, "Really? Have I now?"

Slowly,
he walked towards her, his body smooth and sleek, highlighted by the last rays
of day.

Kagome
felt some of her anger evaporate and took a small step back. She was tired of hopelessness. She was tired
of loss, of disappointment, of sorrow and despair. Yet, most of all, she was tired of the roller coaster which she
was forever put on when Sesshoumaru was near.
Kagome did not want to know the answer, for she felt as though she could
not bear to hear another regret. Her
happiness had passed long ago…and even today, she had lost hope. Kagome realized, she had chased a dream,
tred upon a cloud, and now she was falling down to earth. Soon she would hit the bottom…

"Kagome…"
Sesshoumaru breathed inaudibly, standing not a few inches away.

Meeting
his features, Kagome found that his usually amber eyes were fixed to her face,
as though studying every detail. She
was aware of his subtle scent that had remained the same from childhood. It was
intoxicatingly free. Casting her eyes downward once again, she tried not to
think, tried not to anticipate, tried not to hope.

Sesshoumaru
could no longer wait. It was to be
now. It was foreordained…and if perhaps
it was not, at the moment he did not care.
He wanted what stood before him.

Sesshoumaru
lowered his head slightly until their foreheads were meeting, yet only
faintly. He inhaled her scent that was
now surrounding him like quiet dawn.
All emotions that he had felt, desires, and fears which he had locked
deep inside him were slowly coming apart.

"I…"
he began. It was a sentence he would
never finish.

Leaning
ever closer, aware of every detail of her being, he kissed Kagome, letting his
eyes descend as their lips met; and suddenly the swirling darkness felt like
velvet perfection, and clear blackness of his heart became the color of
completion. His fingers released his grip around Kagome wrist, and moved to
hold her dainty hand, their fingers entwining; everything else fell away like a
crumbling nightmare, and all that mattered was what he had now. What he held in his hand and what he tasted
on the tip of his tongue.

Sesshoumaru's hands moved up to hold Kagome's slim,
elegant shoulders; he prodded her up against the nearby wall, firmly yet not
forcefully. Grasping Kagome, he kissed
her hard, almost desperately, yet not painfully. He would never want to hurt her. The taste and flavor was
beautiful, and addictive; it repulsed him how much his self control was
withering.

A few more minutes and he would be completely at her
mercy.

Kagome did not
move at all for a moment. It was as
though she was not alive, as though she was nonexistent. And the force of his kiss, which he
continued to deliver, stunned even Sesshoumaru. Yet, Kagome's lips slowly parted, and franticly she deepened the
kiss. Kagome had never really kissed before.
It has always been someone kissing her, emotions being forced upon
her. Yet, in a moment she realized the
emotion that she was returning was the same as every embrace before. The
emotion she felt was like the first day of spring, hesitant, yet as the day
continued it grew and blossomed.
However, her emotions towards Sesshoumaru were not innocent like that of
blossoming spring. They were far from it. She desired him as oxygen, and
surprising even herself, she pressed her body deeply against his own. There was
nothing left between them except the rapid beating of their hearts, and the
feverish kiss they shared as if it was their last, or first... It was as though all his emotions he had
kept behind bars all his life had fell away.
He could no longer control his actions.

And the world was theirs. A swirl of passion, flowing
faster and faster and faster. Soon…it
would break…

Kagome let out a sound like a muffled sob and gasp against
Sesshoumaru's lips. Pressing down against
her body, his silver strands of hair fell across her clothes, and he was aware
of the arousing nature of her scent. Sesshoumaru's arms slid down to encircle
Kagome's thin waist; he dimly noticed her hands slide up his chest, moving to
encircle around his neck, her trembling, anxious fingers tangling in his
hair. His skin burned with her fingers
pressed against it.

A deep terrible fire was beginning.

And through it all Kagome heard his voice, within her, as he would
soon be, quietly calling out her name. His soft, comforting voice. How
strange it was, she noted, that she had come to know his voice so well, his
strange intonations and the way he accentuated some words. And in that
moment of time, a few seconds at least, the world had stopped for them.
Nothing mattered, only the darkness which would surround them, the heat that
was engulfing them and keeping them close. In an extraordinary way—she
felt content, as if this was what she had always desired. To be loved, and
cared for, with no regard for anyone but him …perhaps this was her destiny…Yet
at the time she could care less about destiny.
She wanted him, as he was now, without regrets, but only desires which
were being fulfilled.

Pulling slightly away, she silently studied him. His eyes aflame with passion, their depths
crashing and burning against emotions which were at constant battle within his
heart, his lips now parted from the kiss, his hair like pure moonlight falling
against his light skin. His
expression was a concoction of passion and untapped desire. His lips moved,
silently, and she followed them as they moved nearer and nearer to her
features.
Only the breathing could be heard, their quiet, rhythmic breathing mingling
together, grasps and moans, exploring the world of shadows.

Once upon a time, there was a girl and a boy who promised
to marry when they grew older. Yet,
life was not kind to them…and soon they separated…

Years passed and all except the keepers of the
promise forgot the story. There was no
such hope, for promises were overrated.

And the years passed…

Yet one day a wind blew from the east, a direction
where things begin, and the girl set off in search of a new life, without
restrictions, with out promises and without regret.

She failed.

The boy turned towards the west, the direction where
things end, and he was content among the dying soldiers of the past.

Yet, he was whisked away.

And the two discovered that promises are not easily
fulfilled and not easily forgotten…and that love could happen many times.

Yet, love is
a matter of choice, not of chance.

Owari,

The author would like to thank you for your continued support. Your review has been posted.